Home Cooking
by flying feather scribbles
Summary: Sam is tired of always cooking, so the team decides to split it up. Rated K , but may change as the story continues. Takes place at the beginning of Season 2.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This takes place at the beginning of season 2. **

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Ultimate Spider-Man. If I did, Danny would be a much more ****_prominent _****character.**

**Chapter 1: The Decision**

"Okay, you guys, this is it," Sam said irritably one night as he struggled to cook dinner. "I'm sick of always cooking. I never have time to do anything else between this and homework and training!"

Peter snorted from his place on the couch, where he was fixing his web shooters. "I didn't know you cared about your homework."

"I don't!" Sam was getting frustrated. "It's just that Fury will kill me if I flunk out."

Ava glanced up from the computer, slamming it shut. "Okay, Sam, maybe you do have a point. It's not fair for you to do all the cooking. You can make food half the week, and split the other half with Web Brains over there."

Peter help up his hands. "Oh, no. You do _not_ want to see my cooking skills put into use, trust me."

"Whatever. Split the other half with whoever, I don't care as long as it's not me," Ava said, standing up to leave.

"Perhaps the best way to solve this would be to split it evenly between everybody?" Danny suggested from the corner.

"Yeah! Great idea, fortune cookie!" Sam said.

Ava huffed loudly. "Fine, but I call Mondays."

"I shall take Wednesday, the day of peace," Danny decided.

"Dude, if I'm stuck cooking, then I'm so doing it Tuesdays," Luke said.

Sam chimed in. "I call Fridays! And Peter's Aunt May's always home over the weekend, she'll cook then."

"Leaving me with Thursdays," Peter grumbled as everybody continued what they were doing.


	2. Monday

**Thanks for your review, TheOnyxDragon12! ;-) Your reviews are always hilarious to read.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Ultimate Spider-Man. :,(**

**Chapter 2: Monday**

Ava groaned to herself as she walked downstairs. She may have thought school was important, but that didn't mean that she had to like Monday mornings. Worse, it was her turn to cook for the team and Mrs. Parker.

Ava didn't have a clue what to make for breakfast. "Toast?" she wondered aloud.

"Nah, too simple. Try _cinnamon _toast with some fruit," Sam smugly suggested, rocking his chair back and forth from his position at the table. Ava shot him an angry look, then realized that she did not have any better ideas, and, grumbling, jammed two slices of bread into the toaster.

_This is going to take forever if I have to make two pieces of toast per person. Hmph, well, then, I'll just make everyone one slice. I'm not wasting my entire morning cooking when I have a math test to study for!_ She thought. _Now where's the stupid cinnamon?_

Typically, none of the spices were labeled. In the end, Ava grabbed a container with a faded 'c' on it, filled with reddish-brown powder, and decided that this must be cinnamon. After all, cinnamon was unmistakable, right? Now she just needed sugar. Pausing to slip more bread into the toaster, Ava searched the cupboards for white sugar. There was an enormous bucketful, but she hoped there was a smaller container that Mrs. Parker used for tea or something.

Well, there were two salt shakers. Ava realized that one of them probably held salt, and the other sugar. It wouldn't make sense to have _two_ salt shakers, anyways. After tasting the first one and determining that it was salt, she snatched the other one from its place on the shelf, inferring that this would be the sugar.

Carefully, Ava tried to dust cinnamon onto the slices of bread. It didn't work very well, just gathering in a lump on the middle of the slice of toast. Then she tapped sugar on top of the cinnamon, figuring that this would work.

Oh, fruit! Ava remembered. A slice of toast wasn't likely to satisfy _these_ boys- they were practically bottomless pits. Hurrying, Ava snatched up a bagful of apples, and washed them, putting one apple on each plate. _There_, she thought, _good enough_, as the boys stampeded down the stairs, laughing and shoving each other.

Rolling her eyes, Ava slammed a plate down at each place on the table. "Where the milk?" Sam whined, laughing at Ava's worried face.

"Oh, shut up!" she snapped back, a blush creeping onto her cheeks as she distributed glasses and filled a pitcher with water, sliding into her seat.

Peter examined his slice of cinnamon toast with uncertainty. "Uh… Ava?" She growled at him before he could finish, and Peter quickly began nibbling at his fruit.

Danny hesitated for the smallest moment, then took a long sip of water and politely asked, "What is this… delicacy, my friend?"

"Uh… cinnamon toast, duh, Danny," Ava said, ignoring Sam's smug expression.

At last, Luke shrugged and took an enormous bite of toast. Immediately, his expression turned from one of uncertainty to absolute disgust. He stood up, then dumped his food in the trash. "Later, Ava."

Sam looked uncertainly at his plate, then noticed the look on Ava's face, and hastily tried some of the crust. "Yu- Yuck!" he cried, spitting the half-chewed food back onto his plate. Shrugging apologetically, Danny nibbled part of his toast, wincing at the combination of bitterness and saltiness.

"Ah… perhaps I could see your… ingredients?"

Ava glared at him, then passed him the container of sugar and cinnamon.

"You put… cumin and salt on our toast?"

"Yeah, well, you try making breakfast then!" She stormed out of the room.

Sam whispered to Mrs. Parker as Ava left, "You might want to make your own meal."

Needless to say, Ava was not very happy the remainder of the day. That evening, when Sam asked her what they were eating, she snarled, "PB&J's."

Furious with herself, Ava simply set out a jar of peanut butter and jelly, as well as a loaf of bread, for people to make their own sandwiches with. Nobody dared to complain, seeing the expression on Ava's face, and everybody left her alone for the rest of the evening.

"I hate cooking," she muttered to herself.


	3. Tuesday

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**Hamster1000: Sis, that's the wrong kind of "to". It should be "too". Just saying.**

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**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Ultimate Spider-Man, because if I did, Danny would be featured way more often. Just saying.**

**Chapter 3: Tuesday**

Luke was _not_ about to make the same mistake as Ava. No, he was not going to go in over is head; rather, he would make something at his level of skill. Luke did not consider himself to have extraordinary culinary skills, and he would never claim to, but there was no time like the present to give it his best shot, right?

That was precisely why Luke had decided to make eggs for breakfast.

Simple and traditional. Eggs could not possibly be _that_ hard to make. If Luke had felt like it, perhaps he would have researched how to actually cook eggs (and the different ways that you can and cannot cook them), but Luke was having a tough enough time getting the grades he already had, let alone keeping them- especially with all those stupid tests fast approaching. Not to say that Luke was studying for his math test; actually, he was copying Peter's notes (and homework).

Luke, however, did have the sense to wake up early, having the lingering feeling that this might take him awhile and that his friends would tease him mercilessly for any mishaps. He might have asked his best friend Danny for help, but Danny was sleeping on Peter's floor and Luke was unwilling to risk waking Peter.

First Luke fetched a metal mixing bowl, and then removed the eggs from the fridge. He was not sure how to crack them, so he figured that once they were cooked, they would be able to simply peel off the shells- after all, Luke had seen people peeling eggshells off of eggs before, so there was no reason to think that this would not work today. Setting the eggs in the bowl, he opened the microwave, briefly wondering how long he should microwave the half dozen eggs, then setting it for five minutes.

Meanwhile, Luke busied himself with setting the table. Suddenly, he heard a series of explosions as the eggs caught fire, and the metal bowl started sending of sparks. He dashed over to the microwave to find... a huge mess. Of course, Danny had to walk into the kitchen at that very moment. Luke waited for his best friend's laughter to echo through the kitchen, but it never came; Danny instead helped Luke clean up the microwave, which, by some miracle of nature, still worked.

Luke vowed to himself that he would never attempt to make eggs again. People really needed to tell him these things- this would be very hard to explain to Mrs. Parker. Why did that idiot, Sam, have to make _him_ cook? This was a disaster!

He wanted to give up quite badly, but Luke would never give up; that just was not him.

Danny said, "My friend, it is only five. Perhaps we could make muffins?"

Danny found a recipe online and the two friends managed fairly well with the batter. At last, Danny said that he had to meditate. Luke proclaimed that he could finish the recipe by himself just fine. So far, so good, after all. Before slipping the muffins into the oven, he hastily covered them with plastic wrap to prevent them from drying out. Luke felt proud to have thought of that.

Twenty minutes later, he pridefully removed the muffins from the oven and set them on the table for his friends to help themselves to. Peter was the first one to enter the kitchen. "Woa! You actually cooked something!"

"Well, yeah, dude."

Sam rolled his eyes from behind Peter. "It's called baking, Web Head." Peter shrugged, snatching a muffin, only to find it covered in a plastic netting.

"What the...?"

"Oh. I put plastic wrap on top."

"_Seriously_?!" Sam exclaimed in disbelief

"Yeah, dude, seriously," Luke shrugged away his friends' insults, leaving for school. If they wanted, they could eat the muffins that he had spent so much time on, but Luke certainly was not touching them.

The rest of the day went fairly smoothly- until Luke had to fix dinner. Figuring that his best bet was to follow a recipe online, he decided to make baked chicken breast and rice. The website said that is was an 'extremely easy-to-follow beginner's recipe'.

First Luke sprayed the cooking sheet, so the chicken would not stick, then stuck them in the over at 60 degrees for 500 minutes. Simple enough. Luke poured the rice into the pot and left it to cook.

After eight hours and twenty minutes, Luke pulled the chicken out of the oven. A very shriveled, dry, yet raw, whole chicken. The rice, as it turned out, was burnt. It must have caught fire at some point while Luke was busy waiting for the chicken to finish, but it looked edible.

His friends were not so happy to eat blackened, smoking rice. Typically, Luke had forgotten to add water, resulting in a very unique taste. Danny requested to look at the recipe.

"Ah... I believe it should have been cooked at _500_ degrees for _60 _minutes, and that the intention was to bake chicken _breasts_... not an entire chicken..." he trailed off.

Well, at least Luke had given it his best shot.


End file.
